This blog serves as an inspirational and entertaining progress report on my seemingly never-ending journey to 200 pounds.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Week 7 - Getting Flexible, and Increased Frustration

Flexibility is a cornerstone of fitness, and something I'm definitely lacking in. I had tried the most intense "hot yoga" a few years back and it was a fairly horrible experience, though providing me with an understanding of what happens when emotion precedes logic . I was still tipping the scales at around 280+, and wasn't exactly in tip-top condition. I walked into class, at the time still gradually re-introducing myself to the world of physical activity, and easily outweighing the next heaviest participant by a few sacks of potatoes. The instructor was very patient and welcoming, and put my mind at ease. Little did I know what I was getting into. As I entered the classroom, the heat blasted me directly in my face, briefly stifling my breath. I don't think an adjective exists to accurately describe the next 45 minutes of torment. I had never before been exposed to such extreme conditions of heat, combined with the expectation to hold my body in awkward and nearly unbearable positions. Before the class was even halfway complete, I had to excuse myself. Drenched in sweat, I managed to crawl to the washroom just in time to "un-eat" my previous meal and a litre of water. That sort of experience would normally be enough for anyone else to admit defeat, but being the glutton for punishment that I was, I returned for another attempt the following week. Not surprisingly I was met with the same result. Over the course of the next few months I tried 3 more times to complete a full class, thinking the benefits would be worth the agony. I completed only one out of the five I attended, after which the instructor pulled me aside. As I laid on the cool floor outside of the oven they masqueraded as a yoga studio, she put her integrity and my health before all else. She admired my perseverance, but recommended that I try a less intense activity until I was in better physical condition. All I could do was grunt and moan in agreement, and admit that I was submitting myself to the "too much, too soon" mentality once again. Now that I'm a few years wiser and a few pounds lighter, I still won't be returning to the "hot yoga" studio for a while, but I know that I have to get more flexible. I joined a nearby yoga class and had my first lesson this past week. In a room where I still outweighed the next largest individual by the margin of a medium-sized kitchen appliance, I was confident that I would be able to least make it through to the end. My flexibility is sub-par at best, so I obviously struggled with the majority of the exercises and poses, but I left feeling optimistic about my future visits, and rejuvenated about my health.

With an increasing amount of daily exercise, combined with my extraordinarily healthy diet, I assumed that would calculate into significant weight loss. Especially in the beginning stages of intensifying my workouts, I figured a 4-5 pound loss in a week wouldn't be out of the question. Not that I would expect to continue that sort of pace for longer than the first week or two, but the initial push should still be there, "water weight" as it's sometimes called. I have yet to see that sort of loss, in fact, this week my weight had actually increased. Some may argue that I'm "building muscle, which weighs more than fat". While true in theory, in my case I believe the fat to muscle ratio is still too great to have an effect on my overall weight. It should start to balance out around the 220-210 stage. So when I stepped on the scale after a week of hard cardio and healthy eating, I saw a higher number than I did 7 days prior. There are so many factors involved when tracking weight loss on a weekly basis, that a 1-2 pound swing in a 24 hour span is possible, almost predictable. But to consistently not lose weight over the course of an entire week has been quite disheartening. I would have much less of a problem with this if I was in "the last 10 pounds" stage or even nearing my goal weight. But I'm still 40+ pounds overweight at the moment, and feel as though the effort I put forth should yield a much more satisfying reward. All I can do is perhaps increase the intensity of my workouts, and if I go through another week of little to no change, I may have to alter my routines more dramatically. Not fully deflated or derailed, but certainly discouraged.

Mental preparation and stability has allowed me to handle adversity such as this. Ordinarily I'd have turned my attitude to "why bother", hit the couch with my favourite snack, and worried about the consequences further down the road. I know that's not an option, and instant gratification cannot be expected. I have no choice but to simply shrug it off, and keep at it as determined as ever. It's time to turn up the heat...not literally, of course.

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Friday, January 18, 2008

Week 6 - The Treadmill Dislikes Me, And I Like To Cook

There's no escaping the fact that I'm a large man. As much as I notice the subtle losses from day to day and week to week, the reality of the situation is that I'm overweight. Improving, refining and progressing, but still a work in progress. Our treadmill is very industrial, more durable than those found at a local gym, a beast and a workhorse. However, I don't believe it was designed to have a 240+ pound individual run at 10mph for any length of time. Even if it was, it's none too happy about the situation. During the week I'm currently running either intervals or hills. My intervals consist of 1/8 mile walk followed by an 1/8 mile run that increases in speed as the session wears on. I hope to bring that up to a more effective 1/8 walk and 1/4 run, though I think the machine has other plans. I had gone through 8 cycles, ramping up for the next burst of speed. As the motor's subtle whine increased in pitch, my pace began picking up steam. Within moments my feet were pounding out an urgent rhythm and I was fully engrossed in the moment, staying focused on my breathing, ensuring my hands were relaxed, elbows close to my sides, halfway there, hang in there, breathe, hang in th-------STOPPED. The display went blank and I was again left to fumble around as my heart was shocked into recovery mode, leaving me in a less than ideal condition for precise motor skill function. Amped up and slightly trembling, my hands fumbled around with the circuit breaker switch that had once again been shaken loose from it's housing. By the time it was operational, my body had already crashed. I walked out the remainder of the session, trying to determine how to prevent this from happening time and time again. We'll likely have to get the machine tuned up in the near future, and I'll have to keep my speeds lower until then, more hills and pace work.

The desire for sweets and salty snacks has begun to subside again, the energy once used to combat those cravings further motivates me to succeed. Not that I'm completely depriving myself of the occasional treat, it's just that the size and type have been scaled back. I've once again struck that magic balance that allows me to feel satisfied with my eating, rather than always wanting. As my will power strengthens, so too will my focus. I've been preparing my own meals, and as I refine my recipes a certain sense of pride comes along with it. I now find myself looking forward to lunchtime to eat my own creations, rather than something with half the flavour, a fraction of the nutrition, and two to three times the calories.

Though I've mentioned this in a previous post, it still seems to occur frequently, so I must revisit it. I found myself at the grocery checkout, with my usual bag upon bag of fresh produce. In an attempt to cut down even further on my sodium intake, I've stopped buying pickled jalapeƱo peppers and added a few bags of fresh hot peppers at a fraction of the cost. As the cashier began weighing in and tallying my purchases, she asked "What's with all the vegetables?", to which I replied, "They're good for you.", trying to sound as sincere as possible since it could easily have come across as sarcasm. She then explained how she rarely, if ever, has people checking out with only produce. I suppose it's usually one pepper and a few tomatoes going into a salsa recipe, or a few apples destined to meet a flaky pie crust. I told her that the bulk of what I eat is fresh produce, raw fruits and veggies. She nodded her approval accompanied with a smile, and I headed home.

My next hockey game is quickly approaching, and I'm sure I'll notice a change in my endurance from the last time, considering how hard I've been working. I've had no shortages of motivation this past week. Hitting the treadmill is becoming less of a chore with each passing day, and eating properly has become second nature. The most difficult part of this whole ordeal is convincing myself that I will accomplish my goals, and putting all of my knowledge and experience into practice. I now truly feel as though I can. I'm not quitting on myself this time, I've got to see it through.

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Friday, January 11, 2008

Week 5 - It Begins For The Last Time

The week commenced with me standing downstairs in my running attire. The pants and shirt were fitting slightly tighter than the last time, and I was wondering if they'd possibly shrunk in the wash. As I stood at the front of the treadmill, admiring it's construction and overall "space-age" aesthetics, I felt myself drifting off into a sleep-like trance. I switched on the machine with the toe of my extremely white running shoe, slowly shuffled around to the side of the machine, and placed my hand on one of the supports. Deep breath in, and out. I thought back to when I crossed the finish line of the half marathon last summer, and how much pride I felt. Every stride that I had fought through to get to that point seemed to assimilate into one massive positive experience. All the training, sweating, complaining, and pain I had put myself through seemed to vanish at that one precise moment, making it all worthwhile. But here I stood, waiting for some otherworldly force to guide my foot towards that first step. My mind was remembering the successes and accomplishments, but my body was firmly entrenched in the memories of the physical torment and abuse it was again going to receive. "All I have to do is start.", I told myself aloud. I placed one foot on each side of the belt, and hit the "START" button. The motor whirred to life and I took one more deep breath. "Here we go." One foot followed the other, and I quickly found my rhythm. I anticipated a short session considering the amount of time that had passed since my last run. The goal for the evening was to just get started and feel it out, so after a brisk 40 minutes I felt satisfied with my effort. I didn't live up to my lofty expectations, but it wasn't bad for an initial attempt. I didn't quit on myself.

The next day I had a hockey game, the first one in a few weeks. I laced my skates, strapped all the pads in place, pulled the jersey over my head, and stepped onto the ice as I had done many times before. After my first shift I felt as though I might collapse. It's quite amazing how quickly one can fall out of shape, not that I was really in shape to begin with. As I came to the bench, completely spent, I looked up at the clock to see that there was still 57 minutes remaining. I took a quick swig of water and tried to regain my composure. As I brought my head up to observe the action, I noticed the pace of the game was almost frantic. Without a moment to think, the winger came to the bench for a change and I vaulted over the boards and back into action. The action was non-stop, up and down the length of the rink, I could feel my heart beating in my throat, and my lungs and legs were burning. Time to change. I skated hard to the bench and was awarded with a pat on the helmet in appreciation of a job well done. Once again seated, I began to feel woozy so I took another shot of water, and leaned back to open my chest up for some deep breaths. Barely ten minutes in and I'm already spent, but there's no rest for the wicked, and out I went again. By the end, I was a winded, exhausted mess. Definitely "too much, too soon", but well worth it. It made me realize that I can't let up on the physical activity if I want to continually participate and improve. As weary as I was afterward, I eagerly anticipated the next game.

Even after all that, the following day I was on the treadmill again. This time ready to replicate my struggles from the day before. No pep talk needed, I bounded down the rubber-belted runway as determined as ever. Pushing myself to the edge, I thought of how much I will improve in the coming weeks. My limits at this moment will seem like a mere warm-up a month from now, and that motivates me to get back to that level and beyond. After only three days, I could already feel myself becoming stronger and more confident in my abilities. Urged on by the aggressive music blasting into my ears, I actually exceeded my expectations. I was attempting a run/walk dynamic that I thought may have been a little too ambitious, but I powered through it. I finished knowing that I was back in control of myself, and my actions. Ready to take on my toughest challenge, ME.

Focused and confident, my eating is under control, and I'm fully committed to my conditioning. Training for a half-marathon that is taking place in only a few months, and yet another later on this year, there is no room for lapses. I no longer hope that I will stay honest with myself and see this through, I know it. Bring it on, because I'm ready.

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Friday, January 4, 2008

Week 3 & 4 - Surviving The Holidays, and Planning Ahead

Many people thought I was crazy to be so strict through the holiday season, and they were right, it was a little unrealistic. In the past I've hit both ends of the holiday spectrum, in that I've had many years of bingeing experience, coupled with the one year of misery where I was far too strict with myself. This year I entered the holidays knowing that I would allow myself reasonable amounts of food, drink, and sweets, while not going completely over the top one way or the other. Everything went to plan, and I even got a few chances to exercise. And though my weight may have gone up after the dust had settled, I can look back knowing that I had a great time, and after a few days of being back on track, everything should be back to normal.

It's actually quite nice to come back to a regular routine after the holidays. My sleep schedule was a complete mess, and I was eating through the entire day at times. Getting my eating back on track hasn't been that difficult of a transition, but getting psyched up to consistently workout has been a bit of a stumbling block. So, as a gift to myself, I registered for a half marathon on April 27th. The weather will be a little chilly, but I think the brisk Spring air will be beneficial. My training won't hit full stride until mid-January, or maybe even the end of January. The excitement of the event tends to make me want to train as if I've already been running for months, which would just lead to disappointment. I've got to reign myself in to ensure a gradual increase in distance and pace, otherwise I might burn out and not even make it to the starting line. In addition to the April run, though dependent on how well my training goes over the next few months, I'll be signing up for another half marathon on June 15th, the same one I ran last year. After a brief appraisal of my present condition, you'd likely think I was being a little too ambitious, or even slightly deranged to attempt such a feat in 16 weeks. The reason I've signed up for the April run is to prove to myself that I CAN and WILL do this. I've committed to it, and now I have to follow through with it. No "cramming" for this run, as I've learned from my mistakes and will be thoroughly prepared. There's no better motivator for me than setting a date, a firm goal to achieve, and now the first date is set. April 27th - 21kms. I don't have a goal as far a finishing time goes, though I'm looking to better my time from my first attempt. Just talking about it gets me adrenalized, and I can't wait to start training. Hopefully I can maintain this enthusiasm through the coming weeks.

Short and sweet today, but fear not. I'm back on schedule for weekly updates, and with the friendly competitions still going strong there will be lots to talk about in the coming weeks.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."
~ Lao Tzu

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